Back in the suit-n-tie days, Larry Talbot returns to Wales after finding out his brother died. Larry thinks it’s a good opportunity to reconcile with his estranged father. Nice timing for a family patching as Larry’s about to become the family dog.

While out on the town, Larry buys a stylish walking cane with a silver wolf’s head for a handle. Looks badass. So much so, he uses it to kill a rogue wolf, sustaining a Band-Aid™ worthy wound during the furry fracas. He later learns that wolf was the son of a gypsy, and…(wait for it)…a WEREWOLF! The wolf man curse has now been non-sexually transferred to Larry. And once the full moon rises, no fire hydrants within miles are safe.

Once he finds out he’s behind all the village attacks, Lon Chaney, Jr.’s painfully remorseful Larry Talbot/Wolf Man actually makes you feel sorry for him. But don’t try and pet him soothingly in wolf form as your arm will no longer be yours to swing around at dances and/or flight decks.

The entire werewolf mythology — needing a haircut when the moon is full, silver ammunition (or handles on whacking canes), pentagrams, wolfsbane, neck biting and/or neck ripping — comes from this enduring and resonant story of what happens when you’re bitten by a wolf. And not just any old wolfy flea bag…one that’s cursed.

The ultra eerie woods and clinging fog impose a sense of tangible dread, as does that freaky, old-as-dirt gypsy woman who recites the famous werewolf poem: “He who drinks beer by the light of the moon, turns into a jackass, a moron, a goon.” (Okay, I may have not remembered that poem correctly.)

You probably already saw The Wolf Man, a landmark horror movie, when it came out in 1941. Those of you who haven’t watched since then, do so again. Today if possible. Those of you who haven’t watched it at all, you can’t really call yourself a horror movie fan until you do. The Wolf Man is required viewing, people.

The crew of a cheesy, paranormal TV show in London goes to a remote island farm in Wales to investigate the claims that a young woman and her boyfriend were abducted by aliens, where she was knocked up and returned to her home with two inbred bothers and a dad who can’t speak a lick of any language.

Even though the aliens implanted her with a space fetus with chompy teeth two weeks ago, she’s about to give birth any day now. (Her boyfriend didn’t fare so well as his business class was power probed with a drill. That must’ve pinched.)

Once at the farm, which is situated near Stonehenge-like rock structures called Devil’s Teeth, the crew go about re-enacting the abduction. Then the real aliens show up. From this point it turns into a gleeful splatterfest unlike anything you’ve seen since the genre-bending Dead Alive (1992).

There are UFOs, cattle mutilations, three-boobed female aliens, sexual intercourse (both of this Earth and not of this Earth), lots of f’n swearing, alien dogs, alien death orbs, arms, legs and heads torn off, shotgun blasts to the face, bow and arrows to the neck, death by wheat thrasher and weed whacker. And there’s not just gallons of blood, but swimming pools of it. This just keeps going on and on, and it’s freakin’ hilarious.

Evil Aliens (2005) is smart, gory and goofy, which is why I wade through miles of rancid horror movie garbage while breathing through my mouth, just so I can find ones like this.